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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
In 2015 the wave of migrants steadily crossing the Mediterranean to Europe hit the headlines as many of the craft carrying people sank with great loss of life.
This is the story of one little family, and in particular Hadi, aged seven.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
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The Magic Carpet
To those who travel to seek a better life. ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichThe Magic Carpet
Adi Nifas village Eritrea
“And don’t you agree,” said Ahmed, “that they must have more, they must have a great pile of stuff like this, a great hut of it.”
“But where?” said Fatima.
“It must be in their own land,” said Ahmed, “far away, for they fly here. Yes it must be a long distance, to the north.”
“That is where we must go,” she said emphatically.
“There perhaps, “said Ahmed, “we can find work and food and water.”
“The soothsayer said there is danger from other tribes, from the great salt water.”
As Fatima said this Ahmed rolled his eyes as if to say “sure.” He did not believe.
“And while the soothsayer has never been out of this village, nevertheless she travels out of her body,” Fatima continued,
“and she has been right about many things. She was right about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, she said you would come to me on the full moon and you did.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. You have forgotten. Men. What really goes on in your heads?”
“A lot,” said Ahmed. “I have saved 2500 nakfa for this.”
“What! How did you do that?”
“By keeping a little each week and hiding it.”
Fatima was not happy to think her husband had been doing this without her even suspecting. They had been so hungry recently. What else had he been doing that she did not know about?
Fatima switched her attention to the journey. They would take the small Persian carpet, and water, three large litre bottles the soothsayer had said. She turned to her husband,
“Shafiqa, said they were thinking of going.”
“What,” he said. “Where will they get the money?”
As he said it he already knew Shafiqa the village bicycle did it for money; she could have saved quite a bit.
Zuwara Port Libya.
“Now, go and get another boat load.”
“How many?”
“Well the Akbar should only take 300, but, bring me four.”
“Four?”
“Four hundred, and try not to mix Christians and Muslim; that’s just more trouble. Tell them to have their money ready and a bottle of water.”
“What about food?”
“What about food? I can’t supply that many.”
In a large house somewhere in America.
“You know you are to blame Mum for all these refugees.”
“What?”
“Yes you. You bombed Libya, killed Ghadafi, bombed Syria and Iraq. Now these people have no homes.”
“We were promoting democracy.”
